


Nestful

by sternfleck



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: A/B/O-ish but not technically A/B/O, Alien Armitage Hux, Alien Biology, Coming Untouched, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Eggs, Established Relationship, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Kylo loves to eat alien slime, Kylux Positivity Week, Kylux Positivity Week 2020, M/M, Nesting, Orgasm Delay, Possessive Kylo Ren, Praise Kink, Rimming, Shame, Slur Reclamation, Speciesism, Under-negotiated Kink, Xenophilia, based on that boyfriend nest reddit post, but these have both already occurred by the start of the fic, eggs served soft, internalised speciesism specifically, the fluffiest xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25064617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternfleck/pseuds/sternfleck
Summary: Out of everyone in the First Order, only Kylo Ren knows the truth about Hux: the General is half alien...and entirely appealing.Or: Hux builds a nest out of pillows and clothes when it’s time for him to lay his eggs. Kylo wins his trust to enter the nest and give Hux the reward he deserves.For Kylux Positivity Week 2.0, Day 8. Prompt: “Wild Card."
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 25
Kudos: 149
Collections: Kylux Positivity Week 2.0





	Nestful

**Author's Note:**

> KPW said Wild Card...so I duly proceeded to make it _wild_.
> 
> For background, Kylux Twitter has been awash in discussions of a very strange [Reddit post](https://www.reddit.com/r/relationship_advice/comments/hiqw9u/my_24_f_boyfriend_25m_sleeps_in_a_nest_of_clothes/) where a woman seeks advice about her boyfriend’s habit of sleeping in a nest. After [a thread](https://twitter.com/hux_you_up/status/1278032563072839681) of Kylux nest speculation, the image of half-xeno Hux in his nest—with his eggs—would not leave my mind in peace. This fic is the result of my unnatural obsession: a cracky concept treated so seriously I’m surprised at myself. 
> 
> If you’re in the mood for a similar read, [Fru Hallbera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FruHallbera) also has a [twitfic](https://twitter.com/FHallbera/status/1278264594184704000) inspired by the same thread of discussion about the nest post.

When he uses the Force to override the locks on Hux’s door, the first thing Kylo notices is the intoxicating scent inside Hux’s quarters.

Hux’s rooms usually smell like space—metallic, chemically sterilised. But the faint smell wafting from Hux’s bedchamber is musky, floral, like the pods of the vanilla orchids that grow on lush planets like Scarif and Chandrila.

Kylo follows his too-big nose. He’s surprised to find Hux’s bedroom door locked. No obstacle to Kylo, not with the power of the Dark Side, but Hux isn’t one to lock up his room, not when his quarters already have three forms of identity verification at their point of entry.

There’s no light shining from the crack under Hux’s door, which is also odd. To all appearances, no one is home. But Kylo can sense Hux’s presence in the Force on the other side of the door, where the General is curled in his bed, tempting as always.

Kylo forces the lock and slides the door open. In the gloom of the room, the only light is a scattering of a few far-off stars through the wide viewport...and, closer, something in Hux’s bed. Something—several round things—glowing a pale blue-violet in the dark.

There’s a sound of scrambling, of fabric rustling. The glow disappears as Hux squeaks and hisses, “Ren! No! Don’t come in here!”

“Lights to sixty percent,” Kylo says.

“Lights to _zero_ percent,” Hux counters, and the lights stay off. “Get out! What would possess you to break into my quarters? You don’t have the authorisation. Leave!” 

“You weren’t answering my messages.”

“I was sleeping, Ren. I’m unwell. A minor illness that will resolve within a day or two. All personnel have already been informed of my leave. Including you.”

This is true enough. But Hux usually likes to spend his leave time with Kylo. He can’t fault Kylo for assuming Hux would expect a visit.

Kylo lets the door slide shut and uses the Force to make his way through the dark to Hux’s bed. When Hux catches sight of Kylo’s shadowy form drawing closer, he makes that hissing noise again, like he could ward Kylo away with the sheer power of his frustration. He thrashes in bed again, a shadow amidst shadows, tugging the sheets and blankets up to cover...whatever it is that’s on his bed.

This time, Kylo doesn’t bother ordering the lights on. He dials them up from dimness using the Force, before Hux has time to respond.

When the lights are on, what he sees nearly knocks him sideways with surprise.

Hux, as a rule, is peerlessly neat in his habits. He wears his uniforms only once before laundering them. He has no personal touches in his living space, apart from that blue sofa he’s so proud of. Each morning, Hux makes his bed himself, as the technique the droids use doesn’t meet his standards. He’s neurotic about all forms of cleanliness—he even yells at Kylo for leaving clothes on the floor when Kylo undresses him before sex.

Which is why it’s arresting to see Hux’s bed in such a state of disarray. The dark sheets are stacked high with wrinkled textiles of all types. Kylo spots rough ‘trooper-issue blankets, the softer coverlets issued to officers, Hux’s own thick duvet, perhaps a dozen hexagonal throw pillows, and, stranger still, many items of Hux’s clothing, too. There are uniform tunics crushed and creased among the piled mess, along with jodhpurs, underclothes, formal cloaks, civilian shirts and trousers...even Hux’s greatcoat is crumpled at the edge of the bed, one striped sleeve dangling perilously close to the floor.

And in the midst of the chaos, there’s Hux himself, huddled under blankets and curled defensively around something Kylo can’t see. Hux is blinking against the light, a vehement snarl on his face. He looks different—in disarray, like his room. His hair is soft and mussed, barely held back from his face with pomade, as though he’s been clenching his fingers in it. And he’s not wearing his uniform, or even the silk set he wears to sleep.

Instead, Hux is dressed in a chunky pullover sweater knit from charcoal gaberwool. The sweater is much too large for him, and in Hux’s struggle to hide whatever he’s shielding from Kylo with his narrow body, the sweater has slipped down over his shoulder, revealing one of Hux’s fine pale collarbones.

Kylo draws closer, wanting to touch. Hux always yields to him, whatever his initial protests about work or propriety or not wanting to sully himself with the filth of an impudent Force-using boy.

But this time, Hux’s snarl deepens. He bares his teeth, making a genuinely scary noise from deep in his chest. He curls his body tighter around whatever he’s got under the blankets, whatever was glowing in the dark.

Has Kylo stumbled on the General breaking ship’s rules, smuggling contraband? That would be perfect information to use as blackmail. Kylo could make Hux follow his every command. But Kylo has never seen any hint of malfeasance in Hux’s mind. The man won’t even shirk on his two minute time when he’s brushing his teeth.

“I’ve told you three times to _leave_ ,” says Hux through bared teeth, voice low. “I know you’re convinced of your superiority in combat, but I am armed, and I will not hesitate to use my weapons.” 

Kylo halts, taken aback. This is a strong escalation even for high-strung Hux. Kylo breaks into Hux’s quarters all the time, with nothing close to this reaction from Hux.

“I will soon return to my usual routines on the ship,” Hux continues. “Get out of my rooms, and forget everything you've seen.”

“Hux.” This has gone too far. Hux is clearly in the midst of some sort of psychological episode. Perhaps Kylo should use the Force to subdue him before he harms himself or his belongings by mistake.

When Kylo lifts his hand and uses the Force to make a scan through Hux’s thoughts, it’s only a second before the entire situation is clear to Kylo. It’s obvious. He should have known all along.

“You’re nesting.”

Hux flushes, a slow blotchy pink across his pale cheeks. He wrinkles his nose, his eyes apprehensive. “Forget what you’ve seen,” he repeats.

It’s an open secret between them that Hux is not entirely human. In fact, he’s half human, according to the tests done for his medical records. As Hux explained it to Kylo during their one brief conversation on the subject, he’s a hybrid of a union between his human father and his mother, who was of some other sentient species. It’s not something anyone would notice about Hux unless they looked at him in medbay, though. Kylo has closely inspected every inch of Hux over the years, and the only external evidence of his xeno heritage is in his pallor, his chilly eyes that change colour in different lights.

Hux never knew his mother, but there’s one thing about her that’s clear to him and to Kylo. She must have been from a nest-building species—a species that lays eggs. She passed her tendencies on to her son. Kylo has never seen these eggs, not yet. But a few times a year, Hux takes leave from his duties and disappears into his chambers, and when he re-emerges, Kylo sees flashes of memory that let him know how Hux has spent his time away.

Now Kylo kneels at Hux’s bedside, where the smell like Chandrilan vanilla is thickest. He stares at Hux with pleading eyes in that way Hux can never resist. As Hux bares his teeth and curls his body tighter, Kylo carefully extends a hand through the mess of dark clothes, towards Hux, towards what he’s sheltering in the curve of himself.

“Can I see them?”

He might as well have asked Hux if he could betray the First Order and sell secrets to the Resistance. Hux snarls at him again and pulls down his chunky sweater’s sleeve to reveal the knife strapped to his forearm.

“I won’t hurt them,” Kylo says, slow and intense. “I won’t hurt you. I just want to see.”

Hux blinks, his face relaxing an almost imperceptible fraction. It’s probably an effect of the Force, where Kylo is showing Hux his harmless intentions.

There’s a soft light emanating from under the edge of the wadded-up blankets in front of Hux. It spills onto his sweater, faint and fascinating. Kylo needs to see these eggs, this part of Hux’s life he’s never had the opportunity to witness before.

“You can’t touch them,” says Hux, squirming to get cosier in his nest. His guard is slowly coming down. “You haven’t washed your hands.”

Kylo nods. “I won’t touch. Just show them to me.”

With a determined twist of his mouth, Hux tugs back the wrinkled blankets. There, cradled between a crumpled silk robe and a pair of black silk stockings, sit four oblong eggs, pale and leathery-looking and emanating a faint purplish-blue light from within their soft shells. Each one is about the size of two of Kylo’s fists held together. The shape of them isn’t quite ovoid, but flattened along the sides, like a pill.

“What?” Hux snaps. Kylo is staring. Reluctantly, he lifts his eyes away from the eggs to meet Hux’s.

“They’re beautiful,” Kylo says, and Hux scoffs.

“They’re a mark of my biological inferiority.” Hux says it like it’s something he’s memorised, from some long-ago propaganda holo, perhaps. But when he glances down at the eggs clustered close to his belly, his gaze is almost fond.

“When will they hatch?”

Hux’s eyes snap up to Kylo’s, his brows tight together. “ _Hatch?_ Ren, you’re not thinking I would keep—”

“They’re _ours_ ,” Kylo interrupts. “Aren’t they? I see your mind. You don’t give your body to anyone else.” 

The bare astonishment on Hux’s face takes Kylo by surprise. Before Kylo can look into his head to see his thoughts, Hux brings his hands up to cover his mouth and laughs a high, breathy, unpleasant laugh, a laugh that goes on and on. His shoulders shake. When he recovers enough to speak, he has to wipe tears away from his eyes.

“Ren. You thought—oh, Ren. No. No. These eggs will never hatch. I’m a hybrid. I’m the offspring of two species. They’re— _I’m_ sterile. I’m unable to reproduce.” 

Kylo frowns. When he’d first seen the eggs, visions of a future family of little Hux-Ren children had flashed through his head as surely as a call from the Dark Side. Sterile? That can’t be. Hux’s eggs glow so brightly, as though lit from within.

However, when Kylo trails the Force over the eggs snuggled up against Hux’s body, he feels no life inside them. Hux is right. They’re not fertilised.

“Why are you protecting them, then?”

Hux snorts. His nose twitches, frustrated. He shifts closer to the eggs in a motion that looks almost involuntary.

“My biological inferiority, again. I’m shot through with so many hormones it’s a wonder I can even speak to you right now. I’m not myself. None of this is rational. I’m _broody_.” 

Hux spits this last word as though he could extract the impulse from himself by confessing it. He scowls, sticking out his lower lip in an uncharacteristic show of self-pity.

Then, as though unable to help himself, Hux wriggles under his mess of blankets and tugs up the hem of his sweater, stretching out the knitted cloth and revealing his pale stomach. With his other hand, he picks up one of the sizeable eggs and tucks it under his sweater, close to his skin. His movements are careful, his expression guarded, as though daring Kylo to mock him. He does the same with the other three eggs, one at a time.

“Don’t say a _word_ ,” Hux warns. “Any insult you throw at me, I’ve already said far worse to myself. I’m aware my condition is undignified. If you weren’t so fond of forcing your way into my rooms, you wouldn’t have had to witness me in this state.” 

He rolls onto his back, cuddling deeper into his nest of blankets. To keep his eggs close to his stomach, he spreads his long fingers over the outside of his too-big sweater. With his hair out of place and his cheeks flushed with shame and some hormonal glow, Hux looks perfect, not “undignified” but winsome in a way that makes Kylo’s stomach twist. Kylo wants to follow Hux into his messy nest and hold him against his chest for hours, immersed in Hux’s warmth and the strange rich scent of the eggs he’s laid.

Kylo takes his chance and slides forward into Hux’s bed. Hux glares, newly anxious at Kylo’s presence, but Kylo doesn’t stop. He sits next to Hux in the pile of wrinkled clothes and cushions, not close enough to threaten him, but close enough that Hux is near.

“You’re dirty,” Hux protests. “I won’t have your filth and sweat polluting my nest. You haven’t been training, have you?”

Of course Hux would be fastidious about his nest, which, to all appearances, is a complete mess. But Kylo isn’t dirty, for once. He had a sonic after his morning training, and the tunic he’s wearing isn’t soiled from any recent on-planet missions.

Hux believes Kylo when he shakes his head. He relaxes slightly, stroking his thin fingers over his sweater, over the bumps of the eggs beneath.

To Kylo, there’s something a bit sad about Hux brooding over eggs that will never hatch, even if they were never alive to begin with. He imagines funeral rituals they could undertake together, consecrating the eggs to the Dark Side and sending them off amid herbal smoke and ancient chants. But Hux isn’t sentimental like that. Still, he must do _something_ with his eggs each time, if he lays them a few times a year. Kylo could look for the answers in the Force, but the sound of his voice calms Hux. He can sense it. So he speaks out loud. 

“What are you going to do with them?”

Hux turns his head to the side on the pile of pillows, blinking at Kylo from under pale golden eyelashes.

“With the eggs?” He pauses, wrinkling his nose, as if unsure whether to answer. “Once the hormones leave me in peace, I usually eat them.”

For a moment, Kylo can only stare. He’s already imagined Hux’s eggs hatching, grieved their loss, and planned a funeral. And Hux just... _eats them?_

“Producing eggs takes a vast amount of energy. Not to mention the process of laying them. You see how exhausted I am. Eating them is the most efficient way to regain the energy my body has spent.”

Hux blinks again, eyelids fluttering over his cold grey eyes. Not for the first time, Kylo has an impression of Hux as a dangerous creature, delicate but lethal, completely devoid of tender feelings.

“You cook them?” Even as Kylo asks, he knows the answer. There are no kitchen facilities in Hux’s chambers—the General dines with the officers, and has never cooked anything more complicated than rehydrating a ration pack of portion bread.

Hux wrinkles his nose. “They’re best raw. To preserve the vitamins. Let’s discuss something else, if you don’t mind. When I’m broody, the ultimate fate of the eggs is not my preferred topic of conversation.”

“You said you’re exhausted.” Kylo can feel it in the Force, too. It makes him want to offer his chest for Hux to sleep on.

“The word doesn’t begin to cover it. I can barely manage to refill my vacuum flask when I run out of tea.” He draws a tall metal camp flask out of the depths of a pile of crumpled clothes, cradling it in the crook of his arm as though it could keep him warm. “I’m sore everywhere. I _ache_. Especially my—well. You’ve seen the eggs. They're not small. You can imagine for yourself.” 

Kylo could, but instead he glances into Hux’s mind. Hux’s nose wrinkles in embarrassed displeasure when Kylo sees his memories of preparing himself, fingering himself open in his nest, curling up when his gut and his thighs were cramping. In the depths of Hux’s thoughts, Kylo sees a faint enduring wish that he’d had someone there to hold him, to kiss the back of his neck and soothe him during the unpleasant parts of the experience.

“Next time,” Kylo promises.

Hux’s displeased expression deepens. “Absolutely not. It’s a repulsive quirk of my physiology. I don’t want you to see. It’s bad enough that you’ve seen me when I’m...like this.”

He squirms again, uncomfortable, and tugs the blankets up to his chin. “I wish you’d go,” he says. But it’s a lie.

Because it’s a lie, because Hux’s Force-presence is radiating a desire to never be left alone again, Kylo removes his gloves and lifts his hand to Hux’s hair. He strokes it back away from Hux’s face, combing it with his fingers until it looks more like the way Hux usually wears it. He trails his thumb along Hux’s sideburn, across his cheek, which is cool to the touch.

Hux stares up at him with parted lips. His breathing has gone shallow at even this mere hint of Kylo’s fingers on his skin.

“Kylo,” he whispers, his voice already slightly desperate.

“You’re so sensitive.” Kylo didn’t expect the wave of clingy need that pours out of Hux when Kylo trails his hand down to Hux’s neck and strokes his thumb over the soft skin of Hux’s throat. “You’ve been craving this.”

“It’s purely chemical,” says Hux, but his voice is rough, and it trembles. “Nothing but hormones. I’m not myself.”

“You should have told me. I can give you what you want.” Kylo grazes his thumb across the hollow of Hux’s collarbone, enjoying the way it makes Hux shiver and arch into his touch. “You look good like this,” he adds, and slides closer to Hux in the pile of clothes and cushions.

Hux casts his eyes around his nest with a sceptical frown. He’s so ashamed of this, so uncertain. It’s such a change from Hux’s typical arrogance that it charms Kylo and makes him want Hux all the more.

“You can’t fuck me.” Hux states the obvious, as though Kylo wouldn’t have figured that out by now. “So you may as well leave. I’m not in any fit state for our usual undertakings.”

Kylo frowns, pouting. Does Hux think Kylo only wants him as a warm hole to fuck? That would be like Hux, but sad all the same.

“I want to make you feel good. You’ve been all alone. You’re sore. Let me give you what you want,” Kylo repeats, bringing his other hand to Hux’s lips.

Hux squirms, pupils widening. He opens his mouth for Kylo’s touch, showing his small teeth. His head tilts back. When Kylo grazes his thumb over Hux’s teeth, over the tip of his tongue, Hux whines, a sound of pent-up need. His breath is hot on Kylo’s skin.

“Turn over on your stomach,” Kylo orders. “I’ll keep the eggs warm with the Force.”

“Kylo, I—you don’t need to keep them warm, they’re not alive—surely you can’t _want_ this? Want me, like this? It’s depraved!” 

“I want to eat you out.” Kylo presses his thumb onto Hux’s tongue, swirling the pad of it against the soft heat there.

Hux moans softly, his eyes losing their focus. The Force ripples with the blast of desire that emanates from Hux at the very idea of opening for Kylo’s tongue, when he’s sore and stretched and aching and far too sensitive to every touch.

“Disgusting,” Hux whispers reverently, the word distorted around Kylo’s fingers in his mouth. “You. Your vile appetites.” But he’s too far gone to resist Kylo now, arching into Kylo’s touch like every graze of skin on skin is setting him alight.

Hux lifts his sweater, and one by one, he arranges the eggs gently back into their pile of silky underthings beside him. They’re still glowing pale purple, pulsing slightly. It’s difficult to believe they’re not alive. What would be inside them if they were? Did Hux hatch from an egg like one of these?

Kylo’s not sure how he feels about that idea. It’s disconcerting. But when Hux pulls his thick sweater over his head and tucks it around the eggs, baring his thin torso to the cold of the room, Kylo can only think about Hux as he is now, slender and pale and so beautiful Kylo can hardly stand it.

“Be gentle with them,” Hux says. “And with me. As you pointed out, I’m especially sensitive at the moment.”

He rolls onto his stomach next to the eggs, keeping a protective arm around them under the insulating sweater. His lower body is still covered with blankets. When Kylo tugs them away, he sees for the first time that Hux is only in his underwear, with his long legs bare. Kylo uses the Force to nudge Hux’s legs apart, then kneels between them. He strokes Hux’s thighs, savouring the softness of his skin, the fine sparse golden hairs there.

When Kylo touches him, Hux tosses his head back and pushes his pert little ass up into Kylo’s hands. In the Force, he’s so eager that Kylo is fully hard already, just from this sense of how much Hux wants this, wants him.

In haste, Kylo tugs off his own tunic, undressing down to his undershirt and leggings. He adds his discarded clothes to the mess of Hux’s nest. He yanks Hux’s underwear down roughly, squeezing Hux’s hips too hard. Hux makes another of his noises, but this one is agitated, startled.

“Careful!” Hux warns. “You promised not to be rough. I’m fragile.”

It’s hard to hold back. Hux looks perfect, and he smells delicious. It’s that same vanilla scent that had Kylo’s mouth watering even before he walked in. His thighs are wet at the top, slick with some substance that’s the same pale violet as his eggs. It glistens on his skin. Hux’s breathing quickens as Kylo lowers his mouth to lap it away.

“Disgusting,” Hux says again, voice taut, but he’s wrong—the slime on his thighs and ass is delicious. It tastes even better than it smells. Kylo already knows he’ll crave it when it’s gone.

Once Hux is squirming against his mouth, his breaths heavy at every pass of Kylo’s tongue, Kylo pulls apart his slick cheeks. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but Hux’s hole looks like it usually does after a long fucking, slightly reddened and puffy but otherwise unharmed. It’s only a bit loose to the touch when Kylo passes his thumb over it, making Hux whimper into his pile of cushions.

“You like that?” Kylo keeps his mouth close to Hux’s skin, breathing over him. “You taste so _good_ , Hux. So good. I’m going to make you come like this.” 

“Fuck,” Hux breathes. “Ren, Kylo, _please_. You actually _like_ this? You’re not...making a spectacle of me?” 

“It’s not a spectacle. Only us. No one can see.”

Kylo grazes his thumb over Hux’s hole again, pressing lightly into his perineum and making Hux shiver with pleasure. Hux is a sight like this. The whole Galaxy _should_ see him, see how beautiful he is—but the rest of the Galaxy doesn’t deserve it. Hux is his, only Kylo’s, and now Kylo is more determined than ever to never let Hux out of his grasp. 

“You’re perfect, Hux.” Kylo speaks so each word is a hot breath on Hux’s swollen rim. Hux squirms at the praise and the sensation, clenching his hands in the sheets. “I _do_ like this, General. I want to do everything to you. Want to make you come with my tongue inside you. I should have been here all this time, to make you feel good. You can’t hide from me, Hux. You’re mine.” 

Hux’s snort of disbelief turns into a whine as Kylo lowers his mouth and laps at him where he’s sore and open. He moves his tongue in hungry circles, getting as much of the slick delicious substance into his mouth as he can. It’s for his own pleasure, but each stroke of his tongue is soothing, too, and Hux is clearly enjoying it. As Kylo licks at his messy entrance, Hux’s noises get louder until he’s moaning outright with every breath.

“Ren,” he hisses, bucking his hips up into Kylo’s mouth with desperate desire pouring out into the Force all around him. “Kylo, _ah_ , it’s too much, yes, yes, _please_.” 

Kylo swirls his tongue inside Hux, making him choke on his words. He strokes Hux’s inner thighs with strong fingers as he nuzzles into Hux’s hole, laps at the skin below it, drunk on the scent of him. He kisses Hux’s balls clean of the eggs’ slick residue, then licks his way up to Hux’s entrance again and kisses him there, too. Hux twists his hips and spreads his legs wider, still cradling his clutch of eggs under one slim arm. 

He’s rutting into the mattress, seeking friction on his cock. He’s probably leaking pre-come all over his nest. Kylo flicks his fingers and pins Hux’s hips down with the Force. Hux makes a strangled, thwarted noise.

“Ren! Please, please touch my cock. I’m so close for you.”

“No. If you’re close, you’ll come from my mouth on you. Or else I won’t let you come.”

Hux’s moan this time is louder, more wrecked than ever. He tangles his free hand in his hair, burying his face in his nest and desperately fighting Kylo’s Force-hold. He’s harder than ever from being denied, being pinned down, under Kylo’s power, at Kylo’s mercy.

“Beast,” Hux mutters. “Depraved. Putting your mouth all over me when I’m not even _human_ , Ren.” His voice shakes. “My body is unnatural. How can you want this, with me? I’m an _alien_.” 

Kylo draws back. That word...it’s not a nice word. It’s the sort of word that used to cause public scandals back when Kylo lived in the New Republic. Even after joining the First Order, where harsh attitudes about human superiority prevail, Kylo has made it a point to avoid internalising those values. But Hux has been raised in this world, of course. No wonder he’s always been so ashamed about sex, about letting Kylo into his private life to see the deepest parts of him. The way he says that word, though...it’s like a challenge. Like he’s daring Kylo to reject him, to push him away.

“You’re mine,” Kylo repeats, kissing Hux at the base of his spine. Hux shivers. “Your body is exactly how I want it. Fucking beautiful, Hux. Want you all the time. Would you like that? I’d keep you here in bed every day. You’d be my perfect little alien slut.”

Hux turns to stare at Kylo over his shoulder with his mouth half-open in shock. His eyes are intense, wide pupils dark. 

For a moment, Kylo wonders if he’s gone too far. Then the Force buffets him with Hux’s desire, sharper than ever, run through now with something like awe, something like gratitude.

“Kylo,” Hux says, with devastating care. His chest heaves. “Oh, fuck, Kylo, _yes_. I _need_ you. I’m yours, I’m your alien slut, I’m all for you, take me, anything, I’m— _please_...” 

He arches his back, as though he’s forgotten he’s still too sore for Kylo to fuck him. His hips are still pinned with the Force, but he spreads his legs wider, twisting desperately, needing Kylo’s touch. Hux is at his mercy, but Kylo can be merciful to someone so pretty. He strokes Hux’s flanks, his lower back, his flat buttocks. Then he puts his mouth to Hux’s hole again and sucks away the fresh drips of delicious slickness there.

Kylo likes it when Hux gets loud, and Hux gets very loud as Kylo continues to lick him, teasing his tongue inside where Hux is loose and tender, where he tastes so good. He’s squirming as much as he can in Kylo’s Force-bondage, but he moans louder when Kylo pins his wrists to the mattress with the Force, too. 

“Ren, _nnh_ , do you like me like this? Pinned down and spread for you? Kriff, Kylo, your mouth, you’re too good at this, ah!” 

It’s rare for Hux to offer praise in bed, and it makes Kylo redouble his efforts. In the Force he can feel Hux drawing closer, surrendering to the tight pleasure as it builds at the base of his spine.

“Go ahead,” Kylo whispers against his entrance. “That’s my good Hux. My perfect alien. You’re the prettiest xeno in the whole Galaxy, aren’t you?”

Hux’s whimpering crests into a moan, louder than ever, desperate and grateful. When Kylo swirls his tongue inside him again, Hux shudders, gasps, and comes so hard that his thighs shake and twitch as the waves of pleasure rush through him. Kylo releases him from the grip of the Force so Hux can rut his come into the mattress and make a mess of himself.

Kylo gives one last kiss to Hux’s hole, making Hux squirm all over again. Then he crawls up Hux’s body to get on top of him, his mouth at the nape of Hux’s neck, kissing the back of his neatly trimmed hair.

“Ren,” Hux whispers, his voice ruined from his unrestrained moaning. “Oh, Ren, you’re filthy.” But he sounds distinctly, uncharacteristically fond.

From under the edge of Hux’s discarded sweater, where he has his arm around his clutch of eggs, Kylo can see their violet glow bathing Hux’s skin. Again, Kylo is struck by what a pity it is that the eggs are lifeless, doomed to end up as Hux’s uncanny dinner. He holds Hux closer, wrapping one arm around Hux’s chest and the other around his neck, as though he could convey all his respect for Hux’s strange biology through only his touch.

Hux turns in his arms to face Kylo, rolling them both onto their sides. To Kylo’s surprise, Hux snuggles closer, grinding his spent cock against Kylo’s hard one and tangling his legs with Kylo’s.

“It’s the hormones making me like this,” Hux disclaims, even as he nuzzles into Kylo’s neck, kissing along his collarbones. As though Kylo can’t peer inside his head and see how Hux is swept up in a sudden tenderness that has nothing to do with his biology at all.

Nothing directly, at least. Indirectly, he’s pleased that Kylo likes him like this, wants him for what he is. It’s almost enough to make Kylo laugh. How could he not want Hux? Hux’s unconventional features only sharpen Kylo’s attraction, not unlike the way Hux claims to appreciate Kylo’s oversized nose and ears.

There’s a rustling sound close to Kylo’s ear. From under a pillow, Hux pulls a half-empty packet of high-calorie ration biscuits. He unzips the packet’s closure and shoves one thick rectangular biscuit into his mouth whole. Something about the gesture is too quick, wary, inhuman.

Hux’s glance at Kylo is self-conscious, like he knows he’s given himself away. “You’re the one who claims to be captivated by my...particular traits.”

Kylo tugs him closer, crushing the packet of biscuits between their chests. Kylo’s cock is still mostly hard, will probably stay hard as long as the smell of Hux is in his head. But there’s no urgent need for him to get off. For once, Hux is right: Kylo is captivated. He’ll stay with Hux and his clutch of eggs until the General returns to his work.

To prove it, Kylo kisses him. Hux kisses back, opening his mouth for Kylo before he abruptly pulls back, remembering where Kylo’s mouth has been. He grimaces at the remnants of himself on Kylo’s lips.

“Disgusting boy. You taste like you’ve been performing unnatural acts on a near-human organism.”

Kylo grins in spite of himself. To hide his smile, he nuzzles Hux’s neck below his ear. “My favourite near-human organism,” he murmurs.

Hux snorts, but he wraps his legs tighter around Kylo’s thigh. “Kylo Ren. You truly have no limits. I’d threaten you with reconditioning, but it would be futile. You’re too far gone.”

This time, when Kylo pushes his nose against Hux’s and kisses him, Hux doesn’t pull away. He only opens his mouth obediently for Kylo’s tongue, while tugging his duvet over both their heads and pulling the sweater away from the eggs beside them.

As though seeking warmth, Hux presses against Kylo’s chest. His lips are soft, slightly cracked where he’s bitten them. He breathes against Kylo’s mouth and kisses him like he’s starting to appreciate the taste.

After the kiss, Kylo opens his eyes. With the duvet over them, they’re together in Hux’s nest under thick darkness—a darkness lit with a pale violet glow.

**Author's Note:**

> I guess this fic proves lizard people really do rule the universe.
> 
> Working titles: “Broody and the Beast,” “All Nest Up (And No Place To Go),” “Literally the Most Vanilla Xeno.”
> 
> I have no idea about the uses of “alien” vs “xeno” in SW canon, so, as always, please accept my creative licence taken for the sake of their problematic dirty talk.
> 
> Please, please leave comments validating me in my depravity. I’m also on [twitter](https://twitter.com/sternfleck) and [tumblr](https://sternfleck.tumblr.com/), probably thinking about alien eggs.


End file.
